


I Can't Lose You

by devilswreckedchewtoy (AmberFyre)



Series: Fight For All You Know [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, RP verse fic, Season 09 AU, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 06:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberFyre/pseuds/devilswreckedchewtoy
Summary: Too many jobs back to back and no rest meant a close call was inevitable. It took time to realize the close call was over when they had both been strung so tight. Especially when the close call almost cost Sam the person he loved.





	I Can't Lose You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for wolfofthe141-archive for an RP verse. Unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own. As per usual, I own nothing but the story. Originally posted on tumblr.

They’d been working jobs without a break for the last solid six weeks and they were both worn to a frazzle.  The last job had gone worse than it could have been because they were both short on sleep, tempers shorter than usual.  And it had been too much of a close call, this one.  Sam flashed on memory and shuddered.  If he’d been a second slower…

They both needed a break from the constant on the go, the constant tracking down.  They were both on hair trigger alert.  Just earlier that day, he’d startled Ben, moving more quietly than he’d intended (because yeah, he was just as hyper-vigilant right now as Ben was) and had found himself shoved against the wall, Ben’s arm across his chest and a knife (where the hell had that thing even come from) at his neck.

Ben had backed down immediately, flushed and embarrassed and apologetic.  But it only proved to Sam that they needed a break.  So he’d suggested they not take a job just yet.  Had managed to keep himself from even looking for anything, even if there was a small voice in the back of his mind castigating him for shirking his duty.  _People could die_ the voice yelled at him.  _Ben or I could die and we won’t be able to help anyone that way_ , Sam countered it harshly.

They hadn’t stayed in town.  This last job had been a little more violent than usual and the last thing either of them needed was someone coming around and asking questions.  So they’d headed out with no real destination, the tension between them almost humming.  Both of them too keyed up to relax.

They hadn’t spoken much.  Ben was driving and Sam was just staring out of the window and trying to get his brain to shut up.  He wasn’t even sure what state they were in at the moment.  They’d been in Colorado, but he hadn’t paid attention to what direction Ben had set out in and since they didn’t actually have a destination, he didn’t ask.

But the tension was still there, they still weren’t talking, and Sam was just about at the end of his rope.  It was late, or early, depending on which end of the clock you were working from.  They were in the middle of nowhere, no houses for miles and nothing but the empty sky above them.

Sam glanced over at Ben, whose jaw was set and posture was rigid.  And that was it.

“Pull over,” he said.

Ben’s jaw tightened and he glanced at Sam before looking back at the road.

“Ben, pull over.  Please.”

It was the _please_ that got Ben, as Sam knew it would.  He huffed and pulled over to the dirt shoulder and out of the way of the non-existent traffic.  As soon as they had stopped moving Sam was out of the car, slamming the door harder than he needed to.  He walked around to the front of the car and stood there, fists at his side, staring up at the night sky.

He heard Ben’s door open and close, but he didn’t turn around.  He just listened as Ben approached, staring up at the night sky.  When he heard Ben stop, imagined he was just behind him he spoke without turning around.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have killed you.”

“You didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

Sam turned and yelled, “Would you stop it!  You _could_ have killed me, but you didn’t.  You _could_ have died, if I’d been slower.  But you’re not.  Can we just- can we just be happy we’re both still alive?”

Ben looked startled at Sam’s outburst, staring at him in the glare from the headlights still on, shoulders hunched.  Opened his mouth to say something only for Sam to close the distance and grab his face and kiss him.  He put all of the fear he’d felt in that split second into the kiss, the fear that he’d lose this person he’d come to love so damn much.

When he broke the kiss he didn’t drop his hands and rested his forehead against Ben’s.  Felt Ben rest his hands on his waist and finally felt some of the tension start to drain away.

“Wasn’t your fault, Sam.”  Ben’s voice was soft.

Sam didn’t say anything a first, just dragged in a breath that hurt, seeing that image flash in his head again.  So damn close to losing this man.  So damn close to losing his damn heart.

Hesitantly Ben pulled him into a hug.

“I almost lost you.”

“You didn’t.”

Sam let the words wash through him.  Let himself start to feel the reality of them.  Ben was here, in one piece.  Not dead and shredded.

“I can’t lose you,” Sam said softly.

Silence for a long moment.  The arms around Sam tightened and Ben kissed him.  A kiss that said _I’m here, you won’t lose me, I’m not gone._   And Sam let himself fall into it for a moment, just let himself feel.

When the kiss ended, the tension between them was gone.  Sam felt like he could breathe again.

“I love you,” he said, softly.  “So much.”

Their eyes met in the dark, and Sam saw just as much emotion in Ben’s eyes as he was feeling at the moment.

“I love you, too.”

Sam smiled, took a breath, let it out.  Was half-tempted not to move anytime soon until Ben said, “Can we please get the fuck off the road and find a room somewhere?”

And Sam had to laugh.  He knew that tone of exasperation tinged with arousal around the edges.  And found himself able to pull back and still breathe.

“Definitely.”


End file.
